Doomed from the Start
by thehotheartline
Summary: Voldemort is at the height of his power in the Second War, when two people take comfort in one another. But they always knew it was doomed from the start.  This is a completed One-Shot


He propped himself up on one arm and ran his finger slowly down her spine. She had fallen asleep with her back to him after their fight last night. It was a stupid fight for them to get into, but it was something that had been on his mind for weeks, and last night, it all came to a head. He was ready for people to know about them, for this to be more than "just an outlet" as they had agreed in the beginning.

She wasn't. For her, this would always be a fling, a way for them to relieve the tension that these hard times caused. It had been wonderful at first. They were both exploratory, and wild, a result of desperation and fear. But now, well, he was in love with her, while she loved another man. This was the man she saw when she looked at him. Her eyes would heat, her body would flush, but it wasn't for him, and it wasn't his name she would scream in the end.

That fight had been a turning point for him. He understood, finally, that she didn't want to be with _him_, so he would let her go. When the time came, wither he would walk away, or he would allow her to without a struggle. But for now, he would take what she would give him, and make enough memories to last a lifetime.

His finger became his hand as he got lower and lower. He knew the moment she woke up. There was a slight hitch in her breathing, then she continued to "sleep". He smiled and spread his hand out on her hip; he leaned toward her, pushing his bare chest against her back and spreading kisses up her neck. He reached her ear and whispered, "I'm sorry". Her lip twitched in response before she "slept" once again. He slid his hand around to her stomach then pulled her flush against his body. He knew she could feel him now. Her breathing got slightly heavier. His face was still by her ear, so he gently pulled the lobe into his mouth, sucking hard before releasing it and whispering, "Let me make it up to you". She wiggled a bit before turning to him. She looked straight into his green eyes and whispered back, "OK, Harry," with a small smile.

* * *

She woke to Harry caressing her back. Normally, when he woke her in this fashion, she just imagined him to be someone else, the man she thought she loved, to be more specific, but after their fight last night, Harry was the only man on her mind. She had known when all of this started that _he_ wouldn't be able to walk away. What she hadn't counted on was having the same problem. She _was_ falling for him, but she could never let him know that. He had someone waiting on him, and she was waiting on someone else. They were lonely, that was all this was, or all it had been in the beginning.

"I'm sorry," she heard him whisper. She felt like crying. He had nothing to be sorry for. She was the one who couldn't seem to let go, she should be the one apologizing.

Suddenly he pulled her up against him. Oh, she loved it when he took over. "Let me make it up to you." She realized that at this moment, she had a choice. She could keep it impersonal, and walk away in the end, or she could truly give herself to him. He was worth loving. They could make it work. She suddenly realized that for the first time, she wasn't thinking about someone else. She was thinking about him, only him. She felt the heat coil in her stomach, and she knew her choice was made. She turned to him, brown eyes meeting green, and said, "OK, Harry." She smiled at the slightly shocked look on his face, then she leaned in and covered his mouth with her own.

* * *

Harry sat alone outside the tent. It was his watch, but he was thankful for the time to think. Just this morning, he had made an agreement with himself to allow Hermione to go back to Ron when the time came, but then...she said his name. _His_ name. Not Ron's. And they proceeded to have the best time of his entire life. His heart was still pounding, hours later, because of it. What did it all mean? Was she over Ron? Did she love him? He couldn't ask her; he was too afraid of the answer, but maybe, just maybe he wouldn't have to keep his promise to himself. It had been weeks since Ron left, and he had made no attempt to contact them or come back.

He continued thinking, his heart getting lighter with every second, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He turned to it...it was a silver doe.

* * *

Harry and Ron walked back to camp. Part of Harry _was_ glad to see Ron, and another part of him _was_ glad Ron had saved his life, but there was a much larger part that felt like weeping. It was over. It would have to be. There was no way he could allow her to choose him over Ron. She had loved Ron first and would always love him more.

Hermione walked out of the tent and saw Harry. She smiled at him, though her confusion over his wet cloths was evident on her face. Then she noticed Ron, and her glowing face went dark. She was furious. She hit Ron with his own backpack, she threw leaves at him, then she dashed back into the tent. As she passed him, Harry saw the tears running down her cheeks. He looked at Ron and said, "Let me talk to her, alright?" Ron nodded clearly shocked by her greeting. Harry ducked into the tent.

"Hermione?" He saw her sitting at the table, her head on her arms, her body shaking with sobs. "What is it, love?"

"I don't know what to do!" She practically screamed, looking up at him with a deep sadness in her eyes. She took a deep breath, working to calm herself. "I made a choice this morning. I was ready to stand by it, but I expected more time. I don't know what to do." Harry's heart soared then plunged at her words. She had chosen him, but now...

"I do." Harry said with false conviction. "You will go to Ron, you will love him, and you will probably marry him. We will go on as if this never happened, as if _we _never happened, just like we agreed in the beginning. I promised myself that when the time came, I would let you go. It's here, and I will." Harry's voice had gotten quieter as he gave his speech, until it was little more than a whisper, but he had lost none of the conviction; he was determined to make this as easy for her as he possibly could, but he couldn't look at her. He was looking at the door, and the wall, at the floor, at his shoes, at anything other than Hermione. He hadn't even realized she had moved to him. She placed her hand on his face, forcing him to look at her.

"Thank you, Harry." She kissed him, just one last time, then turned away. She walked to the door, to her future...to Ron. She didn't look back, but she stopped on the threshold and said, "I do love you, Harry." Then she was gone. She didn't get to see the single tear that slid down his cheek or hear him reply,

"I will always love you, Hermione."


End file.
